


The Warden Returns

by jakia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakia/pseuds/jakia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven years ago, Warden Commander Amell went missing. Inquisitor Lavellan finds her and brings her back to reality, but things are rarely as straightforward as they seem, and the Warden's presence complicates matters more than expected. [f!Amell, m!Hawke, f!Lavellan. Solas/Lavellan, Hawke/Anders, Amell/Cullen. Previous Amell/Alistair.  Alistair/Cousland in the background, and lots of Cole because I love him.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tranquil

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning was the hardest part for me to write. Now that I've gotten this part done, the rest should be easy to write, because I have it all down in my notes.

It was providence, Asha Lavellan decided later. The Creators had sent her to that dark and terrible place in Redcliffe so that she could know the future, and she could prevent it. Already, she had a plan in motion to stop the assassination of Empress Celine, and she had planted Inquisition agents in Denerim to stop the murder of King Alistair's family. She could fix the mistakes of the future before they happened, and she _would win_ , stopping the Elder One before that terrible future came to pass.

 

It was providence, the work of Dirthamen that led her to what remained of the Hero of Ferelden in that dark and dreadful future.

 

(“Amell,” the older, terrifying Leliana had whispered sadly as they passed the statue of red lyrium, the one whose vague shape still resembled that of a woman. “When they told me she was still alive, I had so much hope. But to see her reduced to this—I would have rather she died from the Blight than to see her suffer from such a fate.”)

 

There had been a woman there still, beneath all the lyrium that seemed to consume her. Asha could recognize her in places—the gaunt cheeks, the strands of white hair that poked out from beneath the lyrium that consumed her body. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

 

Enough so that when Asha came across the woman in the Fade, she recognized her immediately.

 

“Tell me that's not who I think it is,” Hawke groaned. “Oh Maker, is that really her?”

 

Asha bit her lip. “Leliana _did_ say the Hero was missing. Had been missing for a while, actually.”

 

“If that's the Hero of Ferelden, I'm going to shite myself.” Hawke scratched at his beard, studying the woman lying on the altar before him. “Holy Maker's balls, it _is_ , isn't it? That's my cousin, Amell.”

 

Cassandra's eyes widened. “If it is--”

 

“It cannot be,” Stroud shook his head. “I do not sense the taint within her. Whoever that is, she is no Grey Warden.”

 

“Or perhaps whatever taint you normally can sense isn't possible in the Fade,” Solas offered. “Or perhaps she is no longer tainted, like Grand Enchanter Fiona. Either way, she's a person, and one who needs our help.”

 

“She could be a demon,” Cassandra placed her hand on her sword. “A creature of dark magic made to look like the hero of the blight, and this is all just a trick.”

 

“What if it's not, though?” Asha asked quietly. “Could we really leave her behind?”

 

“Even if she's not the hero, we can't just _leave_ someone here.” Varric chipped in. “Even you aren't that heartless, Seeker.”

 

“I still do not like this, Inquisitor,” Cassandra bit her lip. “I don't like this one bit.”

 

“I don't think the Inquisitor heard you the first several times, Seeker.”

 

Gently, Jericho Hawke picked up the Hero and carried her bridal style with them as they started to leave the Fade. In Hawke's arms rested the Hero of Ferelden—what remained of her, at least. She was still unconscious, protected by something within the Fade, but whatever kept her asleep remained as she slumbered in her cousin's arms.

 

It was odd to look at her, Asha thought. She didn't look like someone who had ended the Blight. She was terribly frail, thin as a bird, like a good breeze would be all it would take her out. It was hard to imagine her fighting an archdemon and winning, but perhaps that wasn't where the Warden's strength lied. She was a mage, after all. Mages could win battles without swords.

 

Leliana was going to have a field day with this. Hell, all of her advisers would. Josie would probably try to throw a ball or some other sort of fancy party to celebrate, and Cullen--

 

Didn't Cullen mention that he had known her, once?

 

Either way, getting the Hero of Ferelden on the Inquisition's side could only help them, and so Asha insisted that they carry her back with them, back to Adamant Fortress, and back Skyhold to be nursed back to health, if necessary.

* * *

 

Hours later, the Hero still slept.

 

The camp was quiet as the rode back to Skyhold, the loss of Stroud in the Fade weighing heavily on them all. She knew Hawke felt guilty for Stroud's loss, that he felt like it should have been him left to die in the Fade, but Asha had been the one to make the call, and she felt like she _couldn't_ leave Hawke behind.

 

She couldn't do that to Varric, at least.

 

Stroud's loss still _hurt_ though. It made her feel worthless, like she had failed, somehow. And the only victory she had to show for it was an unconscious woman and the promise of Wardens who had already fallen to corruption before.

 

“Our lady slumber stills, but seems to be in good health, otherwise,” Solas announced behind her, tiptoeing beside her and taking a seat on the grassy hill. “I suspect she'll wake up soon enough, though I doubt Lady Cassandra will sleep until she does.”

 

Asha bit back a smile. “Cassandra still doesn't trust her, does she?”

 

“Cassandra doesn't trust much that comes out of the Fade, but that doesn't surprise me. Hopefully when the Warden wakes up, she can finally give us some answers. Like where she's been for the past seven years.”

 

“Creators, has it really been seven years?” Asha mused. “I knew she was missing, but I had no idea it had been for so long.”

 

“That was the story as I heard it told, at least.” Solas nodded, leaning back in the grass beside her. “The brave Warden Commander Amell defeated the archdemon and then went to lead Amarathine for three years, saving the city before moving on, to look for a friend she had left behind after the Blight.”

 

“Do you think she found her?” Asha asked inquisitively. “Her friend.”

 

“I hope so, vhenan,” Solas smiled, leaning over to kiss Asha's forehead. “Maybe her friend was in the Fade, and that's why we found her there.”

 

“Maybe,” Asha grinned, leaning her head against Solas's chest. She glanced over to where Cassandra stood vigilant, watching over the sleeping mage's body. “She's _not_ a demon, though, right? You'd tell me if she was.”

 

“Considering she didn't change into something grotesque as soon as we removed her from the Fade? I think it's safe to say she was there physically, just the same as us.”

 

“And here I thought I was unique,” Asha smirked, one hand playing with the grass beneath her. “First person to physically walk into the Fade in a millennial, and now I find someone has beaten me to it.”

 

“Just when you thought you were going into history books, too.” Solas smirked, wrapping his arms around his beloved. “Are _you_ alright, vhenan?” He asked quietly. “You've been quiet since we left Adament.”

 

“Just sad, I suppose.” She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against her beloved. “Stroud was a good man.”

 

“For a Warden, I agree.”

 

“You don't really like Wardens, do you?”

 

“I appreciate what it is that they do—fighting darkspawn, ending the Blights—I just don't care for their methods. And I really don't think they deserve a second chance, not after all the chaos they caused.”

 

“They didn't know, Solas.”

 

“I know, I'm not--” her lover frowned, pursing his lips. “I'm not finding fault in you, vhenan. You always have to make the hard choices, often without a moments notice to consider your options. I'm just--” he waved his hand in the air “expressing my disapproval, that is all.”

 

“Disapproval noted, then.” Asha smiled, breathing in deeply. “How do you think Leliana is going to react to all this? The Hero of Ferelden was her friend, once.”

 

“I do not know, vhenan. But I suspect it will be interesting, regardless.”

* * *

 

Leliana met them outside the gates of Skyhold in tears.

 

“You found her,” she cried, big, fat tears streaming down her face. Asha had never seen her spymaster look so distraught. “You actually found her. You found my Amell.”

 

“She still sleeping,” Asha whispered. “Solas thinks she might be under some sort of side effect from being in the Fade for so long. We haven't been able to get her to wake up yet.”

 

“It's made carrying her all this way _fun_ , let me tell you.” Hawke quipped.

 

“I don't _care_ ,” Leliana sobbed. “She's alive. That's all I could ever ask for.” She kissed Hawke on the cheek before turning to Asha and doing the same. “Thank you. Thank you for bringing her back to me.”

 

Asha hugged her quietly. “You're welcome. Help me get her to the infirmary. Maybe there we can figure out how to get her to wake up.”

 

* * *

 

In the end, it was Cole who knew how to fix her.

 

“She sleeps because she was trapped, blinded for so long in a place she could no longer see. The Fade keeps her sleeping because it wants to keep her. It doesn't want to feel her leave, not again.”

 

“ _Can_ you wake her, though?”

 

Cole stared at her as if she had asked him to cut off her head. “If I wake her, she will be different. Just by being here, she's already different.”

 

“How so?” Asha pursued her lips. “Is she a danger to us?”

 

“No,” the spirit of compassion shook his head. “No danger. She's just—faded. She feels wrong. Like Clemence in the Tower.”

 

Asha blinked with recognition of the name. “Tranquil. She's—tranquil?”

 

“Who has that sort of power? Who would _dare?_ ” Leliana seethed, squeezing Amell's hand with all of her might, as if the warmth of her hands might wake the sleeping Warden. Asha had a feeling that the second they knew who had done this to Amell, they were going to find a knife in their throat, courtesy of the Inquisition's spymaster.

 

“The Elder One, perhaps.” Dorian suggested. Leliana turned and glared at him. “It was only a suggestion!”

 

“And a probable one at that,” Cullen shook his head, sitting on the other side of Amell with Leliana. He looked at her with such fondness that if Asha hadn't known better, she would have thought that the Commander had a bit of a crush. “Of course, it makes sense for him to get rid of her. She'd have killed him before he would have even gotten to Haven.”

 

Asha turned to her friend. “Cassandra, didn't you say the Seeker knew how to reverse the rite of tranquility?”

 

Cassandra nodded. “We'd have to find a friendly spirit, one that is willing to reach across the Veil and touch her mind, only briefly. Cole, perhaps you could do the honors?”

 

Cole shook his head. “I'm too far away. It wouldn't work. Besides,” he brushed the hair off of her face. “I've touched her before. I don't think it would work again.”

 

That was news to Asha. “You know the Hero of Ferelden, Cole?”

 

He frowned. “She wasn't the Hero, then. She was just a little girl, scared of disappointing her mother and reaching through the veil for help. And I wasn't Cole.” He mused, playing with a strand of her hair. “I turned her hair white. I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to help.”

 

“But you couldn't reverse her tranquility, could you?” Cullen asked softly, looking like he wanted to hold Amell's other hand but was too scared to do so. More likely, he was too scared of Leliana to try.

 

“No. I'm too— _here_.” Cole tried to explain, but failed.

 

“We find a different spirit, then,” Asha nodded with grim determination. “Solas, do you think you could see if any of your friends on the other side of the Veil could help us?”

 

“I could try,” he kissed Asha's forehead. “For you, vhenan, I will try.”

 

“Look for a spirit of faith,” Leliana said finally, squeezing Amell's hand tightly. “We've had good luck with those in the past.”

 

–

 


	2. Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Shhh, ignores bits of Asunder)

 

* * *

 

Cullen stayed at her side, vigilant.

 

It was the only thing he could think to do. Iza Amell was an important part of his life ten years ago, and an important part of his nightmares ever since, but it felt _wrong_ to just leave her be. He and Leliana have agreed to trade shifts watching over her, but that hasn't happened yet. Instead, they both sit at her bedside, keeping her company.

 

Across Skyhold, Solas slumbered, deep in the Fade attempting to find someone to wake her.

 

Mostly, Cullen sat there and tried to think of what he'd say to her when she woke up. Would she recognize him? Would she want him to be here? The last time they'd spoken, he had been so _angry_ , had said so many terrible things. He wanted to apologize, but would she even want to hear it?

 

Maker, it wasn't fair. After ten years, she shouldn't still look so beautiful. Weren't people supposed to grow less radiant as they grew older? But Amell was still as lovely as he remembered. She had new scars on her cheeks, and her hair was longer than it ever was at the Circle, but other than that it was like she hadn't aged a day.

 

He shut his eyes, and tried to ignore the fact that he still noticed such things about her.

 

Jericho— _Hawke_ , Cullen reminded himself, _he's the Champion of Kirkwall now, not the obnoxious boy who pestered you about templar training—_ was their only visitor for the most part. He brought them food and told them jokes that they didn't laugh at. Mostly, Jericho asked after his cousin ( _I knew an Amell once_ ) and asked for stories about her. Cullen knew what he was doing. It wasn't working. He was trying to take their minds off of the fact that she was still asleep, and off of the fact that when she awoke, she might not even be _her_ anymore. She could be Tranquil.

 

He could not imagine a more terrible fate for a woman who had brought so much joy into his life, once.

 

Other than Jericho's interruptions, Skyhold was quiet, just as vigilant and uneasy as her keepers. Varric and Cassandra had stepped in to cover Leliana and Cullen's duties for the moment, something Cullen greatly appreciated. And the Inquisitor was gone, off dragon hunting or some other such nonsense and had taken Skyhold's rowdiest (Bull, Dorian, Sera) with her.

 

She didn't wait well, she claimed. Besides, it wasn't like she knew Amell, not like they did.

 

Other than Cole... _lurking_ (Cole always lurked, and he knew Amell, apparently?) it was mostly quiet as they waited. Watching. Wanting.

 

A day later, Solas returned.

 

“I found a spirit of faith. She calls herself Wynne--”

 

“ _Wynne!”_ Leliana exclaimed.

 

Solas raised an eyebrow. “Yes. I suspected she knew the Warden, because she offered her services as soon as she heard it was Lady Amell who slumbered. I—you know many spirits, Leliana?”

 

“Wynne wasn't a spirit,” Leliana smiled. “She was a friend, a mage who traveled with us during the Blight. The senior enchanter of Ferelden's Circle.”

 

Cullen blinked with recognition. “I know her. She was a spirit?”

 

“No no, she shared a body with the spirit. A _good_ spirit, Commander.” Leliana waved him off. “It was complicated. But Wynne is willing to help us?”

 

“That is what she said, yes.” Solas nodded. “We should prepare the ritual.”

 

* * *

 

It didn't take long to set up the ritual. Apparently, pulling a willing spirit through the Veil even temporarily didn't take much in the hands of a mage as experienced as Solas. Still, Cullen stood with hand on his sword, ready to defend Skyhold if necessary.

 

He had attended one Harrowing of Amell's already; he could stand for hers again, if needed.

 

Luckily, it seemed his templar abilities weren't needed, for soon Amell awoke, gasping in Leliana's arms.

 

“Shh, you're safe, you're okay my darling—”

 

“Lel—leliana?” Amell croaked, her voice cracked from disuse. “Where am I?”

 

“It doesn't matter,” Leliana shooed her. “You're safe now.”

 

“You look different,” Amell blinked. “Older.”

 

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” Leliana smiled, kissing Amell's forehead. “It's been seven years, my friend. I should I hope I look different.”

 

“Seven _years?_ ” Amell sat up slowly. “That's not—Leliana, I only saw you a few months ago.” The confusion must have been written on Leliana's face, for Amell continued before she could speak.  
“Before I left Amarathine, remember?”

 

“Amarathine?” Leliana gasped. “That was—Iza, what _year_ do you think it is?”

 

“9:34 Dragon,” Amell bit her lip. “Though I take it from the looks on your faces that it's a bit later than that.”

 

“Try 9:42, Cous.” Jericho put his hands on his hip. “Either you've fallen to the same time travel magic the Inquisitor found, or you were asleep for a lot longer than we thought.”

 

“ _Cous_ , who are you, exactly?” She threw the blankets off of her. “Where am I? Is—is this some sort of trick, or--”

 

He moved without thinking, grabbing her arm and holding her tight so she did thrash about. “You're safe, my lady.”

 

She whipped around and looked at him. “Ser Cullen. Maker, now I _know_ I'm dreaming.” She shook off his hand. “Who are you people? What are you doing here? And where is _here_ , for that matter?”

 

“Heart racing. She remembers only darkness, and a message asking for help,” Cole shook his head. “I am Cole.”

 

Quicker than a newly awoken woman should have, Amell reached over and drew the sword from Cullen's side, pointing it at Cole. “Demon.”

 

_Shit._

 

“No, sweetheart, that's Cole, he's not--”

 

“He's a _bloody_ demon, and this isn't--” She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, as if smelling the air around her and trying to decide if it was real or not. “This isn't the Fade. I wouldn't dream of raven shit, no matter how lost I was. I thought--” she dropped the sword, sitting back on the cot they had placed her on. “I thought this might not be real.” She rubbed her arm with her opposite hand. “That was heavier than it should have been.”

 

Leliana reached around her, grabbing the sword and pulling it away from Amell before embracing her tightly. “I know you must be frightened. But I promise you, we don't mean you any harm.”

 

“Some of us only want your autograph, for example.” Varric chirped; Hawke punched him lightly in the arm.

 

Amell closed her eyes, running a hand across her brow. She stopped when she felt the indention of skin, the scar that ran near her temple. “I need a mirror. And an explanation, if possible.”

 

Vivienne produced a hand mirror out of her belt and handed it off wordlessly as Leliana began to try to explain. “We found you in the Fade. The Inquisitor—Lady Lavellan—she found you there, unconscious, and brought you back here.”

 

"I don't know who that is," Amell frowned, rubbing at the new scars that had found their way onto her face, brushing the obnoxiously long hair out of her eyes. “Wait. _Inside_ the Fade? As in _physically_ inside the Fade?” Hawke nodded. “Maker. What was I doing there?”

 

“We don't know,” Cullen murmured. “We were hoping you could tell us, actually.”

 

“Before that, the last I had heard from you was seven years ago. You—disappeared. You wrote me a letter telling me that you were doing something for a friend, and then you were _gone_.” Leliana wiped the stray tears from her eyes. “I thought you might've died. We all did.”

 

“Morrigan,” Amell whispered. “I received word from Morrigan, asking me for help. I was going to go to her, through the Eluvian to help. And then—nothing. I remember _nothing_.” Amell shook her head. “It really has been seven years, hasn't it? This isn't just some terrible nightmare that I'm going to wake up from here in a bit. This—this is real.”

 

Leliana squeezed her again. “I'm so sorry, my friend.”

 

“Bloody hell.” She shut her eyes tight, before waving her hand in front of her face. When nothing happened, she tried again. “Leliana, where is my magic?”

 

The former bard's eyes widened. “I'm sorry?”

 

“My magic. It's not _working_. That's why the sword was heavy, even though I've used swords before, I always used my magic to wield them, and now it's _gone.”_ Amell started breathing heavily. “Leliana, why is my magic gone?”

 

Vivienne gasped as Solas stepped closer. “An after-effect of the tranquility, perhaps? Maybe it will wear off and her magic will return?”

 

“Tranquility? You mean I was--?” Amell shook her head. “Nevermind. I'll find out later. But my magic, it's not the only thing that's gone. If I've really been asleep for so long, then I should be starving. Absolutely ravenous, especially with the taint. But I'm _not_. I'm not hungry at all, and the taint—Leliana, I sense _nothing_ in terms of darkspawn.”

 

“No taint, no magic, no memories. Strip the things that make the Hero of Ferelden herself, and see what remains. _Who is Iza without her magic? Who is Amell if she's not a Grey Warden? Who is anyone if they do not remember?”_

 

Solas stepped closer to spirit of compassion. “What are you sensing, Cole?”

 

“A Nightmare,” Cole shook his head. “It's gone now. Hiding, trapped, playing with its food. We saved what we could. Would have been better if we had been there earlier, but we weren't.” Cole knelt beside her and squeezed her hand. “I am sorry. You have a hurt that I cannot fix.”

 

Amell choked back a sob, and Cullen found that he did not know what to say.

 


End file.
